Session #90 roundup: Gloves come off (again)

The SessionIt took Jake Scholan more than a while to get around to posting the roundup for The Session #90: Beer Flight Club, and he explains why. When I pointed to the original announcement I suggested that the premise was that the gloves would come off. They did once again for the roundup.

There is a plethora of overwhelming banality. When flooded with it, it becomes too much. Too many poorly written posts. Too many posts that just tell you things instead of showing you. Too much of everything I’ve been complaining about, and not doing anything to fix.

I got about halfway through the posts, I closed my laptop and walked away.

I don’t know where I’m going, what I’m going to do, or anything of the sort. But dammit, bloggers, you need to step your games up.

OK, that’s not all that friendly. That doesn’t it isn’t worth reading. If you have some time to kill I suggest this combination:

The roundup. (Granted my eyes are old, but at this point you’ll need a break from the white type on black background — or do what I do, and put it in Pocket to read.)

– Alan McLeod’s contribution to The Session #90. And consider spending $2.99 for The Unbearable Nonsense of Craft Beer – A Rant in Nine Acts.

HB’s post, which makes it much more clear, than the announcement, what he had in mind.

Now I’ll return to deciding which links to suggest you read tomorrow. They won’t be beer reviews, so maybe HB has a point.

Session #91 wrapped up, #92 announced

The SessionTwenty-four beer bloggers from 6 different countries and 3 different continents participated in The Session #91: My First Belgian. Breandán Kearney at Belgian Smaak has the roundup.

And host Jeremy Short has announced the theme for The Session #92: “I Made This.” “The idea of this session is how making something changes your relationship with it,” he explains. “For example, when I first started homebrewing I wasn’t a big fan of lagers. After learning to brew I realized how complex and particular lagers were and I came to love them because of that.” This theme is particularly homebrewer friendly, although Short doesn’t want to make it exclusive. Here are a few of his suggestions.

For the homebrewer:

– How did homebrewing change your view of beer? Do you like beers now that you didn’t before? Do you taste beer differently? Does homebrewing turn you into a pretentious asshole?

For the I only homebrewed once crowd:

– What was the experience like? Did you enjoy it? Hate it? Did you think about beer differently afterwards.

For the I have never homebrewed crowd:

– Maybe you had an experience at a brewery you would like to share? Maybe your toured a brewery and learned and experienced the making of beer that impacted the way you think of beer? Or maybe you’ve brewed in a professional setting?

For the I hate homebrewing crowd:

– Why? Why do you hate us so?

Session #92 is schedule for Oct. 3.

The Session #91: A monastery moment

Courtyard at Saint Sixtus of Westvleteren

The Session Oops. The “Session #91: My First Belgian” snuck up on me, and I must finish a presentation on “Brewing Belgian IPA” and be on the road to Kansas City. So for the third time in the seven-plus years of The Session I’m going to repeat a story from “Brew Like a Monk.” It was the first time I thought about abbey beers in the way I do now. The story is from Achel, and the photo from Westvleteren. For newer material, check the links Session host Breandán Kearney at Belgian Smaak is accumulating.

Inside the brewery café at the monastery of the Saint Benedictus Abbey of Achel, only a single food server and one monk putting items on his cafeteria tray remained when Marc Beirens opened the door and stepped into a chilly December evening.

Beirens, a businessman who has been visiting monasteries since he was a child, took a few strides into a terrace area that was once the abbey’s courtyard. As the sky above turned from dark blue to black, he nodded back toward the brewery, located in a space that once housed the monastery dairy, then to a new gallery and gift shop to his right. Those buildings held pigs and more cattle, before it became obvious agriculture would not sustain the community.

“You should have seen this all a few years ago,” he said, his voice bouncing lightly about an otherwise silent courtyard.

*****

During the next few hours Beirens and Brother Benedict, the monk in charge of marketing when I visited in December of 2004 gave me a complete tour of the monastery and its small brewery. Always a good host, Brother Benedict insisted I try the beers.

Staring with Extra, a substantial 9.5% beauty served from a 750ml bottle. He didn’t drink himself, talking a little business with Beirens, answering my questions about the monastery, and excusing himself after his cell phone rang. He returned a little later. “This is the same bottle?” he asked, knowing the answer was yes. “You don’t like the beer.” He laughed mightily.

He ordered we have another, then headed off again. Both Beirens and I ordered the Achel 5, a blonde beer of 5.3% abv, and compared it to the 5% abv Westmalle Extra. When Brother Benedict returned, he looked at our blonde beers, working on a scowl. He took a sip of one. “Water,” he said, once again laughing.

*****

Beirens appreciates the importance of commerce to the monasteries, and that the six Trappist breweries are part of a larger family. He distributes a range of monastic products — beer is the best selling, but they include cookies, soap, vegetables, wine, and other goods — throughout Belgium and France. His father did the same. “I’ve been visiting monasteries since I was this high,” he said earlier, holding his hand below his waist. That’s why he understands something else about monasteries.

It was dark now, and the courtyard empty.

“I love the silence,” Beirens said. “I used to have a friend who was a monk. He’s gone now.”

We walked along in silence.

“When he was 80 or so, I’d still call him. If I had a problem I could go see him. He didn’t have to say anything and I’d feel better.

“All it took was silence.”

Session #91 announced: ‘My first Belgian’

The SessionBreandán Kearney at Belgian Smaak has announced the topic for the 91st gathering of The Session will be “My First Belgian.”

Marching orders could not be simpler: “The rules are that there are no rules. There is incredible opportunity at your fingertips; whether it be to write about the first time you tried a Flemish red brown ale or the time you got your taste buds around a traditional Belgian witbier.”

And for old timers like myself, who might have forgotten just what the first Belgian beer they drank might have been, no pressure. “It doesn’t even have to be your ‘first’. You could use the Session title as a reference to a moment when after many years of drinking a particular Belgian beer your eyes were suddenly opened to its charm, whether that be down to the particular circumstances surrounding its consumption or a personal story you’d like to share.”

The next Session is Sept. 5.

The Session #90: The gloves come off

The SessionJake at Hipster Brewfus has posted marching orders for The Session #90: Beer Fight Club. Because? For one thing, he writes, “a lot of the topics on The Session lately have been pretty unimaginative, uninspired, and uninteresting.”

Although this matter comes up from time to time in the beer blogosphere, there’s also “my growing frustration with the general acceptance that all craft beer is good beer, and that any hint of negativity will do damage to our burgeoning scene.”

So the premise:

Have you ever drank a beer that became a battle, more than an enjoyable experience? Maybe a beer that was far bigger than you had anticipated? Something you felt determined to drink, just so you can say you conquered that son of a bitch, and you are all that is powerful. Or perhaps it is something that is just so bad, all you want to do is slap it around a bit. Or maybe you were on the verge of passing out, but you just wanted that one last beer, and the valiant struggle between taste bud fulfillment and the velvety embrace of sleep that ensued.

You picking up what I’m putting down?

It’s time put down whatever praise you were about to dole out, and serve up a nice can of ass whupping.

Should be an interesting challenge.